Consumption
by catopiuh
Summary: At a much later time, he would hear the phrase 'Like father like son', and smile wryly at how very true it was. MarthxRoy, mentions of SnakexSamus and LinkxZelda


Disclaimer: I don't own Marth, Roy, Link, etc.

My friends and I roleplay the Smashers together, and this is basically a little plot idea that I had, and took and turned it into a oneshot in order to propose the idea to my friends.

Most of the things in here (such as Samus and Snake) have occurred in the little "history" that we've set up for them, so...

Anyway, cut to the key point: anyone who's played fire Emblem 6, Roy's game, will know that he only took up the position of General because his father grew too ill with some strange sickness to do so...

* * *

As he rolled over onto his side, he had to suppress a moan. He furrowed his brows, arms wrapping over his stomach. Roy felt quite plainly exhausted.

He was sore all over. He wasn't quite sure what had worn him out. Well -- no. He bit his lip, and opened his eyes slowly. Despite having made the subtle shift in position, an arm was still draped loosely around him. The redhead shivered slightly at the feel of smooth skin pressed against his bare back. He had a good idea of what -- or who, more appropriately -- had tired him so. The better question was as to of why he was exhausted to such a point.

Generally, Roy had a far better endurance to most anything, from the long, tiresome training his body had gone through in his swordsmanship. 'Anything' including the late night activities that was not a rare experience; and which had occurred the night before. Yet, while he had normally grown used to the activities, today it felt like he was reverted back to the first time that he had partaken in them -- or perhaps even worse.

He closed his eyes again with a stronger frown, sustaining another groan at the very thought of getting up and actually _moving _to do things. He heard a similar noise echoed in the throat of the boy behind him, and he remembered just how much of a light-sleeper he happened to be. As he felt a shift in movement behind himself, the arm removed it self slowly from around his waist.

A small smile flicked across his face at the caution not to wake him, and he rolled around to show that he was already awake. He ended up face to face (or rather, face-to-chest, from the height difference) with the bluenette Prince. His eyes were still half-lidded with sleep, and he watched carefully as the normally sharp blue eyes steadily came into focus on him. His smile couldn't help but grow. The redhead had often watched the older boy's serenity in sleep, and he had only recently come to know the pleasure of knowing these unguarded moments of actual conciousness.

Roy had long since decided that he rather liked it. Normally they were more conscious than this, more careful of retaining their secret. They were certainly careful of not laying so closely, so intimately (as he noted his completely naked state beneath the blankets) with one another. Usually, Roy would have long since escaped back to his own room before the morning came. He took some amount of contentment in the times that this occurred, as though he would never admit it, he quite enjoyed the warmth the embrace brought.

"Mornin'," he said, a yawn coming over him as soon as he spoke. The two's native tongue rolled smoothly off his own. He brought his hands up between himself and the bluenette, curling into loose fists.

"Good morning." Marth's expression and voice was gentle.

"Mmm..." He hummed quietly, looking at him languidly. With an air of laziness in his voice, he muttered, "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you..."

"_I_ certainly didn't," he continued, closing his eyes again. He had grown used to having minimal conversation from the bluenette, and so, had come into the habit of leading all of the topic subjects. And so the redhead continued easily, "I'm still sleepy... I could use a few more hours. That'd be reeeeally nice."

The Prince's was looking over his shoulder at he window, where sunlight was peeking in through the window. "I am afraid it is time to rise, however, General." As if to accentuate his point, he slid away from the younger boy grip, sitting up. He brushed his hair briefly down, smoothing out whatever bedhead he had obtained (and it fell as flat and amazingly neatly as it ever did).

Roy gave a groan of irritation at this, looking over his shoulder to cast the window a glare. He, however, made no such move to get up, instead watching shamelessly as Marth got out of bed searching for a set of clothes for the day. Pulling the pillow closer to his cheek, he muttered almost childishly, "But I don't wanna..."

Marth didn't reply, nor did he look back to him, well aware that the blue eyes were on him and attempting to ignore it. At his silence, Roy gave another sigh, stretching for a moment before sitting upright as well. "Ugh. Why do you have to get up so damn early?"

This time, he did look back, buttoning his blue breeches as he did so. His thin eyebrow raised in amusement. "First of all, it is not 'so early': It is almost nine o'clock." Roy's eyes flicked around the room for a clock for a confirmation. "And secondly, General, no one is forcing you to rise as well."

"Yea, well..." the redhead trailed off with a grumble. Opting for not replying, he rolled out of bed as well, picking up his discarded garments. He couldn't retain a small wince as he did so, seemingly each muscle in his body aching.

'_Strange_,' he thought again, glancing back over to the bluenette. He didn't appear to have seen his little slip-up in hiding his pain, so he stood up straight and quickly stretched, cracking the ache out of his back. He pulled his blue and gold tunic over his head, opting to forget his burgendy-undershirt for the time being. Marth was already ready -- or, so Roy felt. As per usual, however, the bluenette didn't seem to think so, and he excused himself to the adjoining bathroom to take the next thirty minutes to do whatever pampering he deemed neccisary. With a snort, Roy walked to the door, reaching behind himself to massage his neck as he did so.

He didn't rush to breakfast, nor did he spend much time dressing himself up when returning to his own room. He even decided to forego his armor today, draping his cape only loosely over his shoulders and running a hand through his hair to detangle any knots quickly. He was still patting it down as he walked into the main dining hall of the Smashers. His eyes roamed across just how many people were he with distaste. Generally he woke up, and hence, came to breakfast later, when everything was far less cluttered. It didn't seem like much could be helped though, and so with a sigh he got his own food.

Link was awake as well. It wasn't by choice that Roy sat by him. The elf, upon sighting him, carried his plate over to the redhead's little reserved corner away from the others. Plopping down beside him, he smiled and chirped a greeting of, "Good morning!"

Link was a (not so well known) morning person. Roy was generally not TOO bothered by this: but Link was far, FAR too happy in the mornings for his taste. He shot him a small frown, not offering a greeting in return and taking a bite out of his toast.

"You're up early," the elf noted.

"Couldn't sleep," the youngest swordsman said simply, speaking English for the first time that morning.

"Bad dreams?"

He wrinkled his nose. "_No_..."

The Hylian brought an apple to his lips, smiling against it and continuing. "Well, just wanted to check to see if you've looked at the Melee board yet?"

"No..." Roy said again. His spoon stirred idly in his bowl of cereal, before abandoning it and reaching for his glass of chocolate milk. "Why? Who's up today?"

"You, for one," Link replied. "Against Ganondorf."

There was a brief pause in the Hylian's words as he spoke the name, and the word was spoken with much spite and dislike -- one that was rarely heard in Link's voice, to or by anyone. His brilliant sky-blue eyes had darkened momentarily with his expression as he looked somewhere over to Roy's shoulder, at whom Roy assumed to be Ganondorf. The arch-enemy of the Hero of Time had been present since Roy himself had arrived. Even so, Link still hadn't appeared to have adjusted to it; it was unlikely he ever would.

"Ah," was all he managed in response. "Well this'll be fun." His muscles were already aching in protest at the thought of the match to come. The Gerudo King had far from a weak punch. "Anyone else up?"

"Samus," Link said after a moment. Roy laughed flatly.

"Oh, against what poor soul?"

"Falcon."

The redhead blinked and turned to look at the voice behind him. He couldn't help but let a wide smile break out over his face at the sight of the very tall, very curvacious, very well-admired, and -- very irritated Samus Aran. He nudged Link with his elbow, who submissively scooted over with him to allow the girl room to sit down. He decided against dragging his cereal with him, as he had not been too hungry in the first place, and it was begining to turn to mush.

The bounty hunter kicked her legs over the bench, taking her seat. Roy grinned cheekily. "Ah, what, don't tell me you're afraid of his 'Falcon Drive'."

"I think you said it well enough before," the blonde muttered in return.

Link smiled softly. "Confident then, I assume?"

She gave her own lazy smirk which said it all. Roy looked down at her folded arms on the table, changing the course of the conversation and questioning, "Don't have any breakfast?"

"Ugh," the blonde immediatly grown. She brought a hand up to rub her forehead. "Don't even talk to me about food."

He raised an eyebrow at her, taking another sip from his cup. "Mmm?"

"I don't feel so hot today," she elaborated, staring down at the table, "is all."

"Ahh... do think that you caught a bug or something?" Link took a bite from his apple, inching away from her slowly. "Because no offense, but I really can't afford to get sick..."

"Maybe. I dunno." She shrugged, fingers now drawing a lazy pattern known only to her on the wood. "It's only been for a couple days now... usually it goes away after a while though, if I don't think about it."

"... that's good," the redhead replied, though he too scooted away with a small laugh. Samus sent a light scowl at them both.

"Thanks guys, totally feeling the love."

Roy flashed a grin across her to Link. "Most definitely. Right Link?"

"Oh, yes, big time love."

"... speaking of love..." His cobalt eyes had rested on the door again, and he polished off his chocolate milk with a smirk. "Look who just walked in, Linky."

The elf's head jerked up immediatly, and a brilliant pink bloomed across it as his eyes landed on the figure walking in. He looked away from the Hylian Princess to rub at his cheeks, as if he could wipe the blush that easily away. "Oh, be quiet," he hissed to him, but Roy was already waving, for the Princess had not come alone.

"Hey, guys! Come'on over here!"

The two royal's eyes rested on the table, and Marth and Zelda slowly made their way over to join them. Samus and Link turned again to look back at them, Samus sporting a small amused smirk and Link a small smile as he waved over to them. The two took designated spots across from the trio at the table, their own breakfasts already in hand. Roy's eyes rested critically on their choices.

"You two always eat so healthy... don't you ever have the urge to just say 'screw it' and eat a chocolate-chocolate chip muffin or something?"

"... not particularly," the Hylian princess said politey but with a hint of amusement. Her eyes met Link, who was giving her a soft smile, and she returned it briefly before looking shyly down to her bowl of fruit salad. Marth was pouring himself a glass of water.

"Perhaps not everyone has as unhealthy of a taste as you have aqquired, General."

Despite the (quite subtle and guarded) insult, Roy smiled, for he now recognized his title of 'General' as a tease rather than a formality when it came from the Prince's mouth. Putting up a mock-scowl, he gestured to his bowl, replying, "Hey, I'm eating healthy today I'll have you know!"

"That doesn't look very eaten to me," Link said with raised eyebrows, wrinkling his nose slightly at the globby mush in the bowl. The youngest boy wrinkled his brows at it as well.

"... okay, so maybe it was a little gross. I tell you, if something now-a-days is not loaded with sugar, it's just... not good."

"More like if it's not loaded with meat."

Not coming up with a proper rebuttal to this (for it was true) the redhead simply huffed slightly and childishly stuck his tongue out at the elf, who gave a snort. Samus rolled her eyes.

"Right, well... sorry to part so soon, girls, but my stomach isn't feeling that well..."

Zelda's blonde eyebrows knit lightly together in concern. "Are you all right, Samus?"

"Yea, yea, must've eatin' something bad or something. I knew we shouldn't have gotten that Taco Bell yesterday."

"Hey, mine was fine!"

"So far," she said ominously, and Link frowned slightly at her.

"So where are you going?"

"Mmmm... to go work it off, of course."

A smile flickered across Roy's face. "You mean train?"

She grinned. "Duh."

"In that case..." he stood up, looking down at his bowl. "I'm really not hungry anyway. I think I'll join you. I need to warm up for my match, too..."

"You sure? Just cause my stomach hurts a bit doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you, you know." Here she gave an confident smirk, and Roy's eyes narrowed challengingly.

"Let's see about that, shall we then?"

Link frowned a moment longer, before it flickered away as he shrugged his uneasiness off. He said with a small smile, "All right. Tell us who wins when you're done, alright?"

"Of course I will," Roy grinned. Samus rolled her eyes, begining to walk off already.

"Bring it, Roy-boy, bring it." The redhead offered a small smile and laugh to the table, along with a 'later!', before trotting off.

As they head towards the training rooms, Samus couldn't help but grin and Roy couldn't help but pout as they heard betting tables already open up behind them... most being put on Samus' favor.

--

It started as an itch in the back of his throat. It was barely noticeable, just a faint irritant. He barely paid it any heed at all.

It started with a simple cough.

The little sharp expungant of air left his throat feeling dry, and his intake of water increased. It soon progressed to a soreness, from these small coughs here and there throughout the day, and the more and more often he cleared his throat.

The ache in his joints did not go away, either, as the days went on. If anything, it only increased with each battle that he had. Roy felt more and more exhausted and weary with each day; he dared not say anything about it, though. The last thing he wanted was to be poked and prodded by some nurse over something as careless as a cold. The aches, he reasened, were just because he was not training enough; he took to cure the problem by increasing his amount of time in the Smasher Simulation Rooms.

Yet, he could not deny that something strange was going on. Despite all of his effort in increasing his strength...

Roy bit his lip, shirt lifted up high in the bathroom. He was examining his stomach in the mirror, expression critical. The outline of muscles in his abdomen was not dissapearing -- yet, neither were they growing. If anything, it seemed that he was...

"... thinner..." Still holding his shirt up with one hand, he brushed his palm over his belly button with the other. The pressure on his bitten lip increased. The redhead turned sideways, examining himself from that angle.

There was no mistaking it. His form has grown clearly lighter; it was now less than his normally healthy build. Roy felt uneasier by the second that his hand ran over his skin, and after a moment pulled his shirt off entirely. He sighed, going on to changing into his pajamas (which, in truth, consisted more of undressing than dressing, as he ended up only in his boxers). He kept his eyes carefully away from the mirror, not liking this newfound appearence, and stepped out into his adjoined dorm-room.

He threw his clothes in a clothes basket in the corner, making his way to bed. Collapsing on top of the covers, he pulled a pillow closer and stretched for his bedside table. His fingertips found the remote in the dark, dragging it closer and turning the T.V. on. It lit up his room with a blue glow, the volume already softened and low. He flipped through the channels idly, hand resting on his stomach.

The boy-General could think of much more interesting things to be doing. Most of the fanciful thoughts that slipped through his mind as he changed channels dully, however, involved getting up and going down the hallway until he found a familiar door... With a sigh, he cast these idle wishes aside, deciding he was too tired for such things tonight. He wasn't sure what the bluenette Prince would say tomorrow -- seeing as night-time visits had become rather frequent -- about him not showing up. This had to be the third night now that he had passed the opportunity up...

He settled on the Comedy channel at last. It was rather fruitless, truthfully -- half of the jokes he didn't understand, be it because they spoke of some modern-day thing he wasn't aware of, or because he simply couldn't translate all of the fast English properly. It seemed to be the latter tonight, and without really focusing on what the particular comedian was saying he allowed the English to all just blur together, losing its meaning. Putting his remote to the side again, he yawned with a stretch.

Almost immediatly, with the long intake of breath, there came an attack of sharp coughs. Sitting up on his elbow, they shook his chest in spasms, coughing into his cupped hands. It took them a moment to pass, and when they finally did, it left him with watery eyes. "Damn it," he muttered, brows knitting in irritation. His chest was still itching, deep in his lungs, an ominous warning of more to come. He dropped his face into the pillow with a groan, rubbing his forehead. It was much worse over the weeks. "Maybe I seriously am sick..."

Feeling suffocated, Roy rolled over so he was facing the ceiling again. His eyes remained closed. He tried to regulate his breathing, keeping his breaths long and calm so as to stop something from irritating his lungs. He had the urge to hum his troubles away -- to lose himself in some song, pulled from the depths of his memory -- but couldn't even do that. Sleep slowly began to creep up his senses, and he sighed, muttering uselessly aloud, "Maybe I should go talk to Dr. Mario..."

He rolled onto his side, looking at the red digital clock. _10:47._

'..._ I'll do it tomorrow...'_

The redhead let his eyes slid heavily shut, not even bothering to crawl under the covers. The soft sound of the T.V. become a comforting buzz in the background, and gradually his conciousness slipped from him. He remained rendered on that brink between dreams and awakeness for some time, and some time later when the sound and light of the T.V. came to a stop he didn't stir. Even as the blankets were shifted over him, his eyes didn't flicker open.

Soundly, he slipped off into sleep, curling closer to the newfound warmth that was suddenly beside him, and allowed the clean crisp scent that came with it to slide into his dreams.

--

It had been a few weeks since Roy's late night declaration of a Doctors trip, yet he never really made time for it. Life was too busy without guarding Mesai, fighting in matches, and trying to keep up his normal conversations and interactions with his friends. Samus still was eating poorly, and he took whatever was wrong with her as being of higher importance than his own chest cold, and pushed it to the side so as to be concerned for her.

For good reason.

_Samus was pregnant._

The news came as a shock to all. Roy honestly didn't know what to think of it. He briefly entertained the idea of being jealous -- he had, after all, been infatuated with the older girl for some while in the past. The thought was quickly pushed away, though, for now he had Marth anyway. The next feeling (which he settled on) was protectiveness. Even if he was many years younger than the Bounty Hunter, he still felt it proper to take up the "big brother" routine, since the blonde had no other siblings for such to be done. Link shared his sentiments here, and the two practically became her adoptive brothers.

Still. It was strange. Roy had grown so used to just joking and relaxing -- and being _older_ and _responsible_ and _working _and _fighting_ for so long, that he frequently forgot the rather large gap between himself and most of the others.

He had been 14 when he joined the Smash Brothers. It didn't seem like it had only been a little over a year -- it felt like he was far older than a meager 16 years of age.

But here was the age difference, smacking him in the face again. Samus was in her twenties, and pregnant with a child. How very... _adult._ He felt a small amount of fear that all of their jokes and fun would be forgotten in the past with the child.

And Snake certainly wasn't making this fact any easier.

Roy, plain and simple, _did not_ approve of Snake as the father, and had no clue what Samus had been thinking. He scowled at the very thought of the ruggedly bearded man. He may have been amusing for a few jokes here and there, and sure, he may have been a soldier such as himself -- but he was an entirely diferent type of soldier. Snake had none of the loyalty that his own men had, had none of the traits he deemed desirable in a father.

And so, he was certainly not willing to go easy on the military man in combat.

Breathing coming in rapid pants, the redhead hid behind a stone column, trying to catch his breath. The heat of the volcano level was hardly barable, and he struggled to breath it in, each intake feeling like the lava itself were flowing into his lungs. He blinked sweat quickly out of his eyes, wiping what his bandana had not already caught from his face. Carefully, he peered out from behind the coloumn.

_BANG._

The redhead let out a yelp as he immediatly ducked the large bazooka shot in his direction. It wizzed on behind him, slamming into a stone column and sending it trembling. His eyes widened up at it, and he quickly scrambled to his feet, running out of the way of the falling stone blocks.

He caught this as his opportunity. Snake was still busy reloading his gun, and Roy charged upon him, sword ready. He brought it down upon him, slicing him (but causing him no _real_ injury, as was with all of the specially customized Smash battles) and forcing him back onto his back. Snake pressed flat to the ground, rolling out of the way, and Roy swung his sword again, and with a _ssft!_ the material of his backpack was ripped open, spilling ammunition onto the ground.

Snake cursed colorfully and loudly, and Roy managed a small grin as he charged forward again, this time with flames licking the sides of his sword. This one the army man seemed ready for, however. He aimed a gun at the redhead -- which Roy did not ever recall him pulling out -- and shot it rapidly at him. He grunted painfully at the impact as the bullets clanged off his armor, aim being set off center and missing. They fired again, this one biting into Roy's calf and causing him to hiss in pain at the sting, backflipping away and catching himself on his palms. Again and again he shot, some hitting and some missing. Roy ducked for cover.

Just as quickly as it had come, the large platform they fought was moving, spinning and whirling up and leaving Roy feeling like whatever breath he had had was sucked out of him. Squeezing his eyes shut and feeling nasueas at the moment, he only reopened them when he felt it come to a complete stop.

It was a bit more of a relief -- they were above ground again, and in a castle almost frighteningly similar to that of Bern. He only felt relief, however. As his face lifted toward the sky, he flinched as a small droplet of water hit his cheek. He relaxed as the sprinkling slowly began to come down from the storm clouds above, bringing relief from the heat of the volcano and wiping away some of his sweat.

It was _far_ too much of a disadvantage, now, though, he thought as he regarded the flames on his sword. They sizzled, hissing angrily in protest, before eventually giving up and dying entirely. Breathing rapidly, he turned, prepared to do without them.

When he stepped out, Snake wasn't in sight. His eyes scanned cautiously around the battlefield, looking warily for any sight of him. His breathing regulating a bit (he stifled a shaky cough in his throat, cheeks puffing out slightly) as he walked slowly around. His damage had to have been high... he needed to hurry up and finish this sight. If only he could find a --

_Heart._

Roy grinned eagerly as his eyes rested on the glowing red glass case, sitting just some ways away. Perfect -- he longed or it's sweet relief, for his sweat to be gone and his clothes to be repaired, and a renewed energy to be put into him. He just had to get there before Snake! He sucked in a breath and took off in a dash towards the heart container, screeching to a stop and fingers brushing it as he went to crack open the healing item --

Just as his hand closed shut around it, he let out a soundless breath of pain as a foot collided with his back, knocking the wind out of him, and he lost his balance. First went his sword, slipping out of his grip as his vision spun lightly, then the heart piece, and then his whole body toppled forward, over the edge of the tall stone tower and down, down, down into the dark abyss below...

His memory briefly flickered, and when he next opened his eyes, he recognized himself as outside of the battle stage. Snake was standing triumphantly beside him, smirking slightly as he posed, but Roy paid him no heed. He was too busy struggling to catch his breath, eyes slightly widened.

_He couldn't breath. He couldn't breath, it hurt too bad, his lungs refused to expand, why couldn't he breath...?_

"Good match, shorty," Snake's voice rang in his ears. Just as his foot had set him off balance, a heavy hand collided with his back roughly, suddenly allowing him to suck air back in. Head spinning with the newly found oxygen, he shifted onto his knees, holding his hands to his chest as he breathed rapidly, eyes closed. _**Fuck **__did it hurt... _It hitched uncomfortably somewhere in his throat, and coughs racked his form again. Each tore at his throat, scraping it's way up and making his already pained espohagus burn even worse.

His hands raised to his mouth as they got harsher. The boy-General could feel a hand rest on his shaking shoulders and heard someone say something, but didn't register what they said. Between coughs he tried to wheeze out between his fingers, "I'm... fine..."

_Cough, cough, __**splatter**__._

As he slowly regained control of his breathing pattern with the help of a hand circling his back soothingly, he took one large breath, exhaling slowly and shakily. Eyes flickering open, he slowly lowered his hands, and felt his blood rather quickly run cold at the sight of dark stains of red on his gloves. He stared at them for some while, before slowly raising his fingertips to wipe at his lips. When he pulled them away, red dripped clearly from them.

_Blood..._

He stared blankly at his blood-covered palms, feeling another set of coughs already threatening deep in his lungs.

* * *


End file.
